


Learn Her Wits

by rutherfords (seblaiens)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Cunnilingus, Drunk Sex, F/M, Humor, Light Dom/sub, Riding, Sub Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-03 02:00:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10957329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/rutherfords
Summary: The Commander is a man, just like any other.





	Learn Her Wits

**Author's Note:**

> Because there's not enough about Cullen & Trevelyan talking about the Circle and then having casual sex.

“Should I have stayed locked up in the Circle like a good mage?”

Cullen almost takes a step back from the force of her words, and Evelyn smiles. She’s met many Templars in her life, some of them good to the point where she had fantasised about them doing things to her that no dutiful Templar should do to a mage, and some of them the scum of the earth. Hard questions are good to get a feeling for the kind of Templar Cullen was, and his reaction to the way she talks to him tells her more than any book could.

She’s read _The Tale of the Champion_ , but Varric is not known to be a reliable narrator - not when it comes to Hawke and his other friends. Evelyn believes barely half of the book to be true, so she shouldn’t be quick to judge when it comes to Knight-Captain Cullen, now her _commander_ , of all things.

Cullen stammers out a heartfelt apology, his face turning red in shame and turning an even darker crimson when she asks him about purity vows, and Evelyn realises she _likes_ teasing him.

Cullen’s tent is outside of the gates of Haven, the biggest one in their basic soldier camp. He needs the space for all the equipment and the multitude of maps and books he keeps around, she realises the first time she steps into his living space. It’s cold inside the tent, the thin fabric of its walls doing nothing but shield Cullen from the wind and snow - if he would ever close the flaps. Evelyn thinks they could maybe enchant some tomes to keep the soldiers warm during the night.

“Herald.” Cullen sounds surprised, looking up from a letter he’s writing. He’s standing, hunched over the desk with a quill in his hand and ink stains on his face. He looks annoyed until he realises who had stepped into his tent, the knot between his eyebrows loosening. “I wasn’t aware you needed my assistance?”

Evelyn smiles, hoping it would ease the tension between them - and there is tension, it doesn’t go away just because he’s not a Templar anymore and she’s not in the Circle. When she looks at him, she can so clearly imagine him in the robes of a Knight-Commander, and he’s probably thinking of her as just another mage that they have to keep in check. She doesn’t miss his expression souring whenever she casts spells casually, if it is to brighten a light in the war room when they’re leaned over the maps, or to start a fire for the cooks when the wood is damp from the snow. The only time he doesn’t seem to be bothered by her magic is when they’re fighting side by side - she imagines he knows enough about magic from his time with the Templars to realise how useful she is in combat.

“I just wanted to check in, see how you’re getting used to Haven,” Evelyn says, trying to sound sweet. Cullen puts down the quill and stands up straight, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I think we can find a spare room for you in the Chantry, I know you didn’t want to share with the female advisors-”

“I am satisfied with my accommodations, thank you,” Cullen interrupts her. “Is there something more?”

Evelyn is schooled enough in The Game to hide her scowl, though Cullen’s flippant dismissal strokes her the wrong way. She’s trying her hardest to get on good terms with all the people she’s being forced to work with, and one lousy ex-Templar from Kirkwall is not going to be the one that thwarts her plans.

“I was thinking we should get to know each other better,” Evelyn says, her face never changing from its pleasant expression. “It we’re being forced to work together, I should at least know more than the basics about you, right?” She doesn’t leave room for Cullen to disagree with her - she’s going to get to know this man against his will if she has to.

“A bottle of wine, tonight?” she continues, already halfway out the door before Cullen can think of a reason.

“Lady Trevelyan,” Cullen calls out for her, and she has half the mind to ignore him and just keep walking, but she turns around to hear him out. “I enjoy ale much more.”

“Noted,” she nods at him, the smile on her face genuine for the first time.

 

Evelyn leaves her staff behind in her quarters that night, a bottle of wine and a few bottles of ale for Cullen clutched against her chest in favour of carrying her weapon with her. Haven hasn’t been attacked yet, and she’s betting on odds that it won’t be tonight, either. A few people shoot her surprised glances when she walks by them, the bottles making loud clinking sound as they bump against each other - she might as well be an alcoholic in their minds, but she doesn’t know how much Cullen needs to drink in order to start talking. She’ll be plenty ready to share after half of the wine, but she guesses Cullen would need more before he felt comfortable around her. That’s why she brought the dwarven stuff not even Varric liked.

Cullen takes the bottles off her as soon as she steps into the tent, placing them on his desk. He brought in a second chair, she notices, and the books are neatly organised into a shelf instead of strewn all over. It’s still cold, and she wonders if Cullen just _loves_ the cold when he doesn’t move to close the tent behind her.

“Chilly,” Evelyn remarks as she sits down.

“I can offer you a blanket?” Cullen says, moving to a chest that stands at the foot of his cot and rummaging in it until he finds one which looks more suitable for a dog. He looks at the fabric for a few seconds before looking at her, then throws it back into the chest. Evelyn is about to ask him if he thinks her too noble to curl up in something less than pristine, but he mercifully decides to close down the tent.

There’s an awkward silence when he sits down, his chair on the opposite side of Evelyn’s. He’s out of his armour, clad in only his trousers and the padding that’s normally not seen beneath the metal. He looks uncomfortable, and his eyes keep darting from her face to the opening of the tent, as if he thinks someone would burst in on them and think they were doing something not befitting the Herald of Andraste and the Commander.

The silence is broken when Evelyn asks for a glass to pour her wine, Cullen scrambling to get up and coming back with two dusty mugs, trying to wipe them clean with a rag that doesn’t look much better than the blanket he had offered her. Evelyn presses her lips together to keep herself from speaking - she knows he’s not nobility, but he grew up with the Templars, who at least had a general sense of keeping things sanitary. Then again, her brother hadn’t been very different, always playing in the mud as a child and tracking dirt throughout the house.

“You know, my brother, Maxwell, is a Templar as well,” she mentions, glad to have finally found a topic they could discuss.

“I’m not a Templar anymore,” Cullen replies out of habit, shaking his head when he realises she was trying to start a rapport. “Where did he serve?”  
  
“Ostwick Circle. We were in there together.”  
  
“Oh?” Cullen asks, surprise clear in his voice. “I thought the Order would have sent one of you to a different Circle. Relatives aren’t usually allowed to be together.”

“Our family is close to the Chantry,” Evelyn explains as she accepts the now only marginally less dusty mug and pours her Antivan red. “We pulled a few strings, and then he was allowed to stay in Ostwick. You served in Ferelden and in Kirkwall, you’ve said?”

Cullen only nods, and Evelyn thinks she would probably think him dull if it wasn’t for the stories she’s heard about those particular Circles. His handsome features also helped her feel less annoyed at him, she had to admit. It isn’t unusual for her to be attracted to Templars, but she’s never seriously thought about following up on one of those attractions.

“How long did you live in the Free Marches?” she asks, even though she already knows the answer. The Marches were one more common ground they could bond over, since Cullen seems reluctant to talk about the Circles with her.

“Almost ten years,” Cullen says and then sighs, clearly not wanting to talk about his life in Kirkwall, either. Evelyn sips at her wine and prays to the Maker that he would try finding a topic he feels worthy of talking about himself. She gives up hope when he opts for drinking instead, as well.

“I heard the Ostwick Circle was… quaint,” he says after a while, a small smile playing around the edges of his lips. “Quite different from the one in Kirkwall.”

“Ostwick was boring,” Evelyn says, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. “There were barely thirty mages at a time, and even less apprentices. The most exciting thing that happened was when a storm spell went wrong and it rained in one of the rooms for a week.”

Cullen actually laughs at that, and Evelyn raises her eyebrows. He seemed to not approve of her casting her magic, but here he is, amused by an apprentices failed attempt at a new element. “Nobody neutralised it?”

“No. I think the Templars were glad they had something to do that wasn’t just standing around for once.”

“It can get quite dull,” Cullen nods. “I remember when I started out at the Fereldan Circle. I was so excited because I finally had work to do, which boiled down to check if every apprentice was in their bed by the time lights out was declared.” Evelyn grins when she sees him roll his eyes. “A waste of time.”

“Makes a failed Harrowing that much more exciting, huh?”

Cullen wrinkles his nose at her attempt at gallows humour. “I was fortunate enough to never have to strike an abomination down during a Harrowing,” he says before finishing his first mug and pouring himself more ale, “but I’ve seen others have to do it.”

“My Harrowing was a disaster,” Evelyn admits. “We should all be glad I lived through it.”

“What happened?” Cullen asks, though he’s clearly not looking forward to hearing her answer. It’s like maneuvering talking to nobles, talking to him - and Evelyn has yet to find out what he’s comfortable sharing with her.

“Oh, nothing bad,” Evelyn assures, “I just almost died out of embarrassment because I forgot to… well, this might be a story for when we’re more drunk than this.”

Cullen laughs quietly, and grabs one of the ale bottles, reading the label. “It won’t take too long to reach that point. Did you grab the strongest alcohol you could find?” He smiles at her as he puts the empty bottle on the ground, leaving the rest of the full ones on the desk between them.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” Evelyn shrugs. “I could offer you some of my wine, if you’d prefer.”

“But then, what would you drink?” Cullen asks, and Evelyn could swear he’s flirting with her.

“I don’t need a lot to loosen my tongue.” She dares to wink at him, and Cullen quickly looks down at his mug and chuckles, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. He’s interested, at least she hopes he is - he’s not sure if he would react the same way to any of others flirting with him. He’s said he didn’t have anyone back in Kirkwall waiting for him, but Evelyn isn’t sure how serious he takes his duties to the Inquisition.

“Good to know,” Cullen mumbles after a few seconds of awkward silence in which Evelyn refills her glass. Half of the bottle is gone by now, and she’s starting to feel it, too - her body feels warm and her arms light as she lifts the glass to her mouth. She’ll have to slow down, wait for Cullen to catch up if she doesn’t want to be a sloppy mess any time soon.

“So, how is training the soldiers going? Do you have all the supplies you need?”

Cullen huffs out a laugh. “I couldn’t do it without Rylen and Lysette. We have a lot of recruits who never even held a sword in their hand before.”

“You must be frustrated. I know how annoying it was when the apprentices weren’t able to get simple spells right.” Evelyn rolls her eyes and smiles, her expression mirrored by Cullen’s. He really is handsome when he smiles, and even though Evelyn’s never gone for blondes before, he can hold her attention by just walking in the room. He’s big and intimidating in his armour, less so in just the gambeson, but he still stands taller than her, if not by much.

“I’ve been putting Rylen on duty with the greenest of them,” Cullen says. “I think I pulled a muscle the last time I trained with them.” He rubs over his shoulder, grimacing.

“Standing hunched over your desk while writing letters surely has nothing to do with it,” Evelyn teases. “Have you let a healer look at it?”  
  
“It’s nothing,” Cullen waves her off. “A  few days without having to hold up my shield should do the trick.”  
  
“I can have a look at it.” The suggestion comes out of her mouth before she even thinks about it. “Healing isn’t my strong point, but if it’s just a pulled muscle, I can fix it.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” Cullen stammers, looking surprised at her offer, “but I don’t think you should.”  
  
“Scared of me turning you into a toad?”  
  
“No,” Cullen chuckles. “I lived in the Circle, remember? It wouldn’t be the first time I let a mage heal me.”

Evelyn continues to smile, though it is frozen on her face. She feels an irrational jealousy when she thinks of other mages putting their hands on Cullen to ease his pain. “Oh, so it’s just an aversion to me, then,” she says, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Not at all,” Cullen says quickly, raising his hand to wave her off, “It will be fine on its own, that is all.”

“But if it’s hurting you you can’t train your soldiers, which means you can’t do your job,” Evelyn reasons. She might as well just tell him that she wants him to take off his clothes at this point, but she still has her honour to uphold. “It’ll only take a few seconds.”

Cullen ponders for a few seconds, but the pain must be great enough for him to finally make the decision to unfasten his gambeson and put it up on the armour stand next to his metal plates. He’s left in a thin, long-sleeved cotton shirt, and he hesitates briefly before pulling that off as well. Evelyn suppresses a wolfish grin when his body is bared to her, a chest lightly dusted with blond hair, a few scars not doing anything to retract from how attractive his torso is. He’s more muscled than she would have thought by his light frame, his abs looking rock hard on his abdomen. She’d love to run her fingers over it, and then her tongue, taste his skin and the dried sheen of sweat he would have worked up from a day of walking around in padding and armour. She’s throbbing between her legs and she hasn’t even lain hand on him yet.

“Should I lie down or sit?” Cullen asks, and Evelyn takes a look at the chair he was using. She wouldn’t be able to get a good grip on his shoulders, and he can’t sit on it with his chest to the back because of the arm rests, so she directs him to the cot in the corner of the tent. He lies down on his chest with his arms beneath his head, looking up at her as Evelyn kneels on the corner of the mattress. It would be easier if she could sit on him, but she’s not drunk enough to lose that many of her inhibitions.

“Where does it hurt the most?” she asks, putting her hands on his shoulders. His skin is warm to the touch, and when she leans down a little she can smell him - manly and slightly sweaty from not having had time to clean himself off after the day was over.

“Left shoulder and down my back,” Cullen says, his voice slightly muffled, and Evelyn starts pressing her healing magic into his skin. A sigh escapes him as it loosens the knots in his back as well as alleviates the pain of the tear, and Evelyn has to bite her lip to not start moaning with him. His eyes are closed now, and he’s clearly enjoying her helping hands - she’s almost tempted to ask why he would say no to what is basically a better version of a massage, but she doesn’t want to destroy the moment by putting her foot in her mouth.

“Good?” she asks instead, moving her hands down Cullen’s back in circles, pressing her thumbs into his flesh.

“Very good,” Cullen agrees, nodding.

He grunts again when Evelyn rubs over one of his sore spots, and that’s the last straw before she climbs onto the cot and his back, her thighs on either side of his body. Cullen makes a surprised noise, his eyes opening when she mounts him, but closing again when she keeps massaging him.

It’s exhilarating, sitting on top of him and feeling him between her legs. Evelyn licks over her lips and rocks her hips slightly, not enough for it to be noticeable as anything other than her getting comfortable. She throws her head back and opens her mouth in a silent moan, her eyes closed in pleasure. She must be drenching her small clothes with how wet she is, her clit throbbing as she rubs herself over Cullen's back. When she looks back down Cullen’s face is flushed pink and his lips parted, but his eyes are closed.

“What was that story about your Harrowing?” he asks, and Evelyn doesn’t stop moving against him.

“I woke up on my back after entering the Fade,” Evelyn says, her voice low, “and my skirt had ridden up. I wasn’t wearing anything beneath, because I had been with my lover just a few minutes before.”

“Did they see...?”

“ _Everything._ ” Evelyn chuckles. “It was quite mortifying at the time, but we were joking about it just a week later.”

“I think it’s all fine now,” he says hoarsely after clearing his throat, sitting up as much as he can with Evelyn still on top of him. She practically falls off him as she scrambles to get back to her chair, brushing a few strands of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear. She doesn’t watch as Cullen puts his shirt back, only looking up when he goes to sit back in his chair. Her eyes work their way up his body, stopping at his crotch when she sees the unmistakable bulge of his erection in his breeches. She swallows as and tears her gaze away from him and instead decides to go back to drinking.

“I’m sorry,” Cullen says, and Evelyn looks up to where he is avoiding looking at her, his ankle resting over his other foots thigh to hide his crotch - he had seen her staring at him, then. “I shouldn’t have let you touch me when I’m… I shouldn’t have let you touch me.”

“I don’t mind,” Evelyn replies. “It’s… a compliment.”

Cullen looks embarrassed, but he laughs. “If you say so.”

“I would have been offended if you hadn’t liked me writhing on top of you, telling you about flashing a few fortunate Templars.” Cullen nods, more at himself than at her. She notices him avoiding her gaze, staring down in his mug and quietly drinking the rest of his ale, probably waiting for his erection to go down before engaging her in conversation again. “You know,” she says, sitting up straighter in her chair, “I could help you out.”

“What?”

“You’re frustrated, clearly. There aren’t a lot of available women in Haven, and you can’t go and have sex with one of your soldiers.”

Cullen looks as if she’s lost her mind. “We can’t- you’re the _Herald!”_

“Cullen,” Evelyn laughs, “it really would _not_ be a _bother_.” That gives him pause, his mouth hanging open as he stares at her as if to make sure she’s not jesting. When she cocks her head he looks away again, staring down at his boots.

Feeling bold, Evelyn stands up from her chair and walks around the desk separating her from Cullen, pushing down Cullen’s leg and spreading them so she can stand between them. He’s looking up at her like a scared a child, his eyes wide when she places her hands on his shoulders and sinks down to her knees in front of him.

“Lady Trevelyan, please-” he say, trying to close his legs, but Evelyn doesn’t let him get away.

“You can call me Evelyn.” She reaches for the buttons of his breeches, opening them one by one while Cullen swears quietly to himself, resting his head on the back of the chair and digging his nails into the wooden arm rests.

Evelyn feels giddy as she pushes down on his breeches and smalls, Cullen obediently lifting his hips as she pulls them half way down his thighs to reveal his hard cock, leaking at the tip. She takes him in hand and strokes up and down, carefully pulling back his foreskin and revealing his head, shiny from all the pre-come that has gathered. The urge to lick over him is too great for her to hold back any longer so she leans forward until her head is level with Cullen’s crotch and tentatively licks over his cock, tasting his come and spreading it around her mouth with her tongue before swallowing.

“I love the way you taste,” she says, grinning up at Cullen, who is biting his lip in an effort to keep his moans quiet. The walls of the tent are thin, and Cassandra sleeps just a few steps away, in addition to all the soldiers who are camped around them. More than one is most certain to hear their commander getting lucky tonight, and Evelyn can’t wait for the barely concealed jokes that would spread through the army by noon tomorrow. “I want you to come in my mouth, make me swallow it all down.”

“Sweet Maker,” Cullen groans, his hands lifting from the armrests to settle on her shoulders, stroking over the exposed skin of her throat. “Take it off,” he mumbles when his fingers rub over Evelyn’s coat, frantically grabbing for the buttons. Evelyn helps him out, taking her hands off his cock for a moment to open her top and brush it off her arms, her breast band following suit as Cullen pulls at it. She would have laughed, if she hadn’t been scared of him still making her stop.

Cullen’s hands fondle her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples, hard from the chill inside the tent. His eyes catch her for a second, but he doesn’t look away anymore, his pupils dilated wide and his mouth parted as he breathes through it. He is just a man after all, desperate for a woman’s touch after being around men all day.

“Lean back,” Evelyn order, pushing Cullen from where he had leaned forward to touch her until his back hits the chair again. He lets her lean over his crotch again, panting when her lips close around the head of his cock and she starts sucking.

She starts out slow, letting her tongue lick over the slit of his cock and then around his head, all while she lightly sucks at him. She sinks deeper after that, taking in more than half of his cock before she starts having trouble fitting him into her mouth. Her right hand wraps around his shaft while she fondles his balls with the left one - it would be easier if he was lying down, but Evelyn isn’t interested in disrupting just to make them move to the cot. The ground beneath her knees might be hard, but she loves the way her head brushes against his abdomen with every bob, and the way she can feel his legs quiver where they’re pressed against the side of her body.

“Evelyn.” She looks up when Cullen calls her name, not stopping the movement of her tongue over his cock as he strokes his hand through her hair as best as he can with it still braided down her back. There is sweat on his forehead, little droplets running down his face, and she takes her hand off his cock to push his shirt up his body until he takes the hint and takes it off. He’s beautiful even this close to his body, and Evelyn lets his cock fall out of her mouth to kiss over his abdomen, sucking lightly and moving her way up to his chest. She has to stretch to kiss his neck, yelping when Cullen pulls her up and into his lap, pressing his cock against the crotch of her trousers.

“I want you,” he breathes against her neck, his face pressed against her skin as he sucks, leaving tiny, red bruises behind where his mouth had been. Evelyn giggles, wobbling a little bit as she grinds down against him. It makes his arms wrap around her waist so she doesn’t fall of the chair, and she moans when his hand travel down to grab her ass, massaging her cheek as he surges up to capture her lips with his. It’s a clumsy kiss, too much tongue and spit, and their teeth knock together a few times as Evelyn keeps grinding against him.

“You can have me,” she whispers after they part, “but I want to taste you first.”

Cullen nods and licks his lips, pushing down his breeches even further as Evelyn gets back on the floor and takes his cock into her mouth again, bobbing her head and licking over him in a quicker pace than before. Cullen leans forward once more, shooting her an apologetic smile as he pulls the ribbon from her hair and untangles her braid. He runs his hand through the strands that fall into her face on the side, and pushes them back before grabbing a fist full of it, guiding the movements of her mouth on his cock.

It sounds filthy as she takes more and more of him into her mouth, the head of his cock nudging the back of her throat. She balls her hands into fists as she forces herself to press down even further, his cock slipping down her throat for a few seconds before she has to pull off. Cullen moans and his hips thrust up when her teeth scrape over the head, and Evelyn decides to file that piece of information away for a later time.

“I’m close,” Cullen says, his hand flying to his cock to squeeze the base of it.

“In my mouth,” Evelyn reminds him, and she sees Cullen’s eyes roll back before he closes them, starting to jerk himself as she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. It doesn’t take long for him reach the edge, and he moves her head in position by the hair he’s still pulling. A few more strokes, and he’s coming, his seed hitting Evelyn’s tongue and spilling down her chin. She keeps her mouth open, waiting for Cullen to finish and see his handiwork, even though she wants to close her lips and be able to feel his come inside her mouth before swallowing it down. The look in his face after the last few spurts of sperm dribble onto her lip makes it worth though, the flush on his cheeks only darkening when he sees her on her knees, her wet with his release. Evelyn finally swallows and licks over her lips, keeping eye contact with him until he looks away.

She hums and chuckles when he raises his eyebrows at her, getting up from the ground and walking over to his cot. She’s aware of eyes following her, and she wiggles her hips as she rests one foot on the edge of the mattress, opening her boot, and then the other. When they’re on the ground her hands reach for her trousers, unfastening the ties before she pushes them down her ass, making sure to coyly look over her shoulder to where Cullen is more lying than sitting in his chair.

“My turn?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow.

Cullen scrambles off his chair, almost tripping over himself when he forgets this his breeches are still around his ankles. Evelyn grins as he swears and hastily toes off his boots before stepping out of the leather, and he’s pushing her backwards onto his cot in mere seconds. It creaks alarmingly beneath the weight of both their bodies, but Cullen doesn’t seem to care, manhandling her legs until they’re spread to either side and he’s between them, his face mere inches away from her pussy.

Evelyn sighs when his lips move over her thigh first, kissing everywhere except her cunt. She’s so wet already from getting him off - she’d always enjoyed pleasing her partners, and getting to blow the most handsome man in Haven is definitely something to get excited about. When she can’t take it anymore, she reaches down and guides Cullen’s face to her pussy. He kisses over her at first before his tongue darts out, tasting her for a moment before licking between her folds with barely any pressure. His pushes his tongue into her hole, and Evelyn’s legs jerk when a moan vibrates against her.

“Cullen,” she sighs, squeezing her legs around his head to encourage him to do more than just tentatively lick at her. He takes the hint, his tongue running up her slit to her clit and rubbing over it in slow circles, and Evelyn can feel herself drip, a mix of Cullen’s saliva and her juices. “Your fingers,” she says breathlessly, spreading her legs wider so Cullen has more room to work with.

She looks down at him as he repositions himself so he can slide two fingers into her, crooking them up towards her abdomen as he fucks into her. His hair is mussed up, lips glistening and red - she’s never seen him this way before. The usually stoic and professional commander, a hot mess between her legs. Evelyn smiles and closes her eyes, moaning when his lips close around her clit and his tongue begins stroking over her in earnest.

Her orgasm hits her quickly, too wound up from going down on him before and the touches to her breasts. Cullen looks surprised when he feels her clenching around his fingers, and she moans out her release probably a little too loud for how exposed to others hearing them they are. A few sparks of storm magic spark from her fingertips, and she sees Cullen eyeing them warily - it’s not unusual for her to release a few sparks when she comes, and she guesses Cullen’s never had sex with a mage before if he is surprised by it. He presses a few more kisses to her pussy before he pulls out his fingers and lies down next to her, on his side, because they don’t fit on the cot together with both of them on their backs.

“I’m not done yet,” Evelyn whispers, looking up at him.

“You didn’t- I thought you had-”

Evelyn’s laugh cuts him off, and she shakes her head. “No, I did. But I’m not finished after just once.” She gets up from the cot and motions for Cullen to get on his back, what he does after hesitating for just a second. She glances down at his cock, soft and moist from her spit. By the time she would come again, he would probably be ready for her again.

“Scoot down a little,” she says, and Cullen complies, realises what she’s about to do. His hands come up when Evelyn climbs back on the cot and positions herself over his face, lowering her body until her pussy hovers over his mouth. She keeps it so he has to strain his neck to lick over her, making him work for it. He growls when she moves out of the way of his tongue, and with a laugh she spreads her legs as wide as the cot allows it so he can actually taste her again.

His hands rest on her hips, keeping her in place as his tongue thrusts into her again. He can’t push his fingers into her in this position so his tongue has to do, and the way it feels inside her is divine, wet and hot, softer than his fingers. She starts rubbing over her clit, wanting Cullen to keep on using his tongue inside instead of on her pearl.

“You’re actually good at this,” she says when they find a rhythm that works for both of them, Evelyn moving her hips in time with the thrusts of Cullen’s tongue. He pulls out to reply, but Evelyn doesn’t give him a chance to form any words before she presses her groin into his face again. “Don’t talk, you’ll ruin the moment.”

Cullen snorts and blinks up at her. She can see him smile even though most of his mouth is covered by her body, and she feels his stubble scratched against her skin as he moves against her. He’s even more handsome on his back with her on top of him.

He makes her come a second time, though it takes her longer than the first time. She sees him discreetly massaging his jaw as she curls up at his side. It feels wet and messy between her legs, but she can’t be bothered to find a towel to dry herself with if she’s just going to be stuffed full of Cullen’s cock in a few minutes. She looks down at his crotch, where his cock is half hard, lying pillowed by dark blond, curly hair. Her hand reaches out almost automatically, wrapping softly around his shaft and stroking him.

“Again?” he asks, amusement evident in his voice.

“I won’t let you sleep tonight.”

“I noticed.”

Evelyn keeps moving her hand until Cullen’s is completely erect, his hand wandering between her legs. Before he can reach his destination, Evelyn is on her knees and on top of him again, pressing his hands over his head and into the mattress. He opens his eyes in surprise of her taking such charge over him, and Evelyn feels drunk on power as he stares at her helplessly.

She rubs her pussy on his cock, spreading her wetness on him before positioning herself so the head of it nudges against her hole. Cullen’s chest rumbles with the noise he makes, almost purring when she keeps teasing him by letting him slip inside a tiny bit before sitting up again, never taking in more than the very tip.

“Evelyn,” he sighs after what can’t be more than a minute of her denying him entrance, frustration evident in his voice, though he seems reluctant to tell her that he wants her to start riding him already.

“Cullen,” Evelyn replies, grinning down at him. If he wants her, he just has to ask for it and overcome his pride - she can’t wait to have him at the point where he won’t even think twice about begging her for more.

“ _Please_ ,” he says, his mouth staying open as Evelyn sinks down and lets him bury his cock inside of her, not stopping until she’s sitting on top of him. His hands push against her grip, almost as if he had forgotten that she’s still pressing his arms down, but instead of keeping them anchored there she guides them to her hips so he can guide her as she begins to move on top of him. As soon as she takes her hands away from his, one one of them reaches up to palm over her breast, squeezing it gently.

“You’re beautiful,” Cullen murmurs, his eyes darting from her body up to her face.

Evelyn giggles, out of her element. “Thank you,” she decides to say, before making Cullen groan and writhe beneath her with the movement of her hips. It’s been awhile since she was allowed pleasure like this, and Cullen fills her so well she could probably come just from him fucking her alone, without as much as touching her clit.

After a few minutes, Evelyn realises riding him had probably been a bad idea - she’s tired from being up all day, her thighs burning every time she has to lift herself up. Cullen realises she’s getting tired, pulling her down so her chest is touching his before he begins thrusting up and into her, holding her in a grip around her waist so she doesn’t get jostled around too much by his movements. She can hear every noise he makes like this, the quiet grunts and his heavy breathing that only gets louder the longer he moves.

“On your back,” Cullen says when he stops his thrusting, reaching down to pull himself out. Evelyn complies, careful not to fall of the cot as she maneuvers herself around until she is lying down, with Cullen on top of her. It’s strangely intimate like this, their bodies touching more than in the previous positions and the sides of their faces pressed against each other as Cullen wraps her legs around his waist and pushes himself back inside. He kisses her then, the feel of his lips against hers still so unfamiliar that they haven’t quite figured out how they work best together. He moves onto her neck when his thrusts move them too much to keep kissing, and Evelyn is sure she’ll have a few hickeys come morning that she would have to cover up with a high-necked coat.

The new position makes it harder to touch herself, but she manages to push her hand between their bodies and rub over her clit, curiously letting her fingers trail down to where Cullen is fucking into her. She’s so wet, her fingers are drenched the second she feels over her slick folds on his cock, pushing in and out of her in a steady rhythm. Cullen moans when her fingers wrap around the base of his cock, squeezing gently for a few seconds before she moves her hand back to her clit.

It doesn’t take her more than a minute before she’s coming, squeezing tightly around Cullen’s cock until he’s grunting against her skin, his hips stuttering. She feels him jerk as he starts coming, when he realises he should be pulling out instead of coming inside her, but he’s already spurting inside her by the time his cock slips out. The rest of his seed lands sticky and hot over her folds.

“Maker, Evelyn, I’m so sorry,” Cullen frets, panting heavily as he gets on his knees and looks between her legs. “I should have withdrawn-”

“Don’t worry,” Evelyn says, slipping her hand between her legs and letting her index finger trail through the mess, “there’s enough witherstalk in Haven to make sure none of the women get pregnant in the next few years.”

Cullen laughs nervously. “Side effect of my soldiers being the ones who are sent scouting for herbs, no doubt.”

“At least you know they’re being smart about it.”

“So far away from civilisation, and still each one of them thinks they can find some poor girl who would lie in bed with them.” Cullen grins. “Their optimism is admirable.”

“And to think you’re the one who’s actually getting luck - the one who didn’t even try.” Evelyn pulls Cullen down from where he’s still kneeling between her legs, so he’s lying on his back and she’s pressed against his side. She grabs blindly down to the ground until she finds the nearest piece of cloth, with which she wipes herself down between her legs. It turns out to be her smallclothes, anyway, so at least she isn’t cleaning herself with something Cullen or her would need to wear tomorrow.

“Are you staying the night?” Cullen whispers before pressing a kiss against her forehead.

“If you want me to. Though the cot might be a little small.”

“I can hold you so  you don’t fall off,” Cullen suggests, pulling her against his chest so she’s half resting on top of him. He kisses her again, his hands wandering over the curves of her body and hesitantly dipping back between her legs. He carefully inserts one finger, feeling her slick and hot, before pulling it out again and sighing. “I hope you won’t regret this in the morning.”

“The only thing I’ll regret is that we didn’t do it in my bed - it’s much bigger and more comfortable. And I have a furnace.”

Cullen chuckles, already sleepy. With a flick of her hand, Evelyn extinguishes the lone candle that is still lighting up the tent, the flame dying and bathing them in darkness.

 

She wakes up the next morning with her body aching, not only from their activities last night, but also from sleeping in a space that is much too small for two people. It might even be too small for Cullen alone, and Evelyn thinks she will have to have a word with Threnn to requisition a bigger bed for her Commander. It might be an awkward conversation, but it is one that needs to be held.

Cullen is still sleeping, his mouth slightly open as he quietly snores. He looks adorable bathed in the dim light of the rising sun that shines through the walls of the tent - blond curls in disarray on top of his head and his stubble a bit longer than he normally keeps it. He wakes as she stirs beside him, hazel eyes blinking sleepily at her before he smiles and strokes over her side.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too, Commander,” Evelyn chuckles, resting her head on her elbow. “I guess some of you soldiers will be up already and see my walk of shame, hm?”

“Probably,” Cullen admits, smiling ruefully. “If anybody asks, I could say we were going over strategy until we both passed out?”

“There was some strategy needed, indeed,” Evelyn says, waving at the tiny cot. “Next time, you’re the one coming over.”

“Next time?”

“Of course. You were… adequate.”

“ _Adequate_ ,” Cullen repeats, raising his eyebrows at her.

“Alright.” Evelyn rolls her eyes, getting off the bed and beginning to search for her clothes, strewn across the ground. “You were _good_.” She picks up her underclothes, wincing when she sees the dried come which she had wiped away the night before. With a look at Cullen, she throws them onto the bed. “For you. I don’t want to have to explain that to the girls who wash my clothes.”

“It’ll look even worse if it comes from me,” Cullen says, throwing them back at her. “They’ll think I’m some sort of pervert who stole these for his own enjoyment.”

“Yes, you’ll have a hard  time explaining this.” She ignores her underwear, now lying back on the floor, in favour of getting dressed, pulling on her coat when Cullen decides to get up himself. She sneaks a glance at his body before he pulls on his clothes up to his gambeson, disappointed when all his skin is covered up again.

“I’ll make my way out then,” Evelyn sighs, walking to the entrance of the tent. “I’ll try not to limp.”

Cullen laughs, a little embarrassed but amused by her compliment. He smiles at her as she steps out and immediately begins shivering in the cold, morning draft, snow falling in tiny flocks. The flaps of the tent close behind her, and she stats making her way up to the gate into the town.

She passes a few soldiers, none of them giving her much attention, but she catches Iron Bull’s eyes just as she’s about to walk up the first set of stairs. His smirk speaks more than words would, and Evelyn bites the inside of her mouth to keep herself from grinning as he nods her head at her.

The entire Qun might know about her dalliance with her Commander soon, but as long as it’s only Bull who knew about them, they were safe from any gossip.

 

For now.

**Author's Note:**

> pls feed me with comments and kudos or i'll literally dieTM  
> catch me on tumblr, how bout dah (cuosland.tumblr.com)


End file.
